


Clouded emotions only lead to guilt.

by StixandManny



Series: Clouded emotions [1]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Betrayal but is it really?, Insinuated injury, Regret and guilt, bad desicions due to clouded judgment, but it is kinda open so you know there could be if you want there to be, lots of guilt on Geralt's part, mentions of injury, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:54:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25803964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StixandManny/pseuds/StixandManny
Summary: Only latter when the emotions clouding his judgment finally begun to fade would he come to regret his actions.
Series: Clouded emotions [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2154546
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	Clouded emotions only lead to guilt.

"Geralt!" The bard called after him, much too loud for his liking considering current circumstance, it was almost as if Jaskier wanted the enemy to find them. "Geralt, please. Don't leave me!"

He did just that, without so much as a second glance at the man who had ratted him out in the first place, continued into the woods. As he'd informed Jaskier earlier he got them out of the cell -which was more than the traitorous snake deserved- the bard was on his own now, he owed him nothing. And even then it was only two decades of companionship that granted that favour to begin with, he'd have left the poet to rot in the cell otherwise. He was just thankful Ciri and Yen hadn't been with him when the black clad soldier's had gotten the jump on him and brought him in.

Only latter when the emotions clouding his judgment finally begun to fade would he come to regret his actions.

Only when he's tracked enough paths in the darkness that he's absolutely sure anyone possibly on his tail will be completely lost and unable to follow him back to where Ciri and Yen were safely tucked away. Would he question just how little Jaskier had weighed when he'd grabbed him up and pinned him against their cell wall.

Only after the raging anger slowly eases to a simmer will he register the smell of blood, sweat and rot that had clung to the seemingly unharmed bard.

Had his medallion trembled when he first stepped near the bard? Gods he'd been so angered at being caught, worried that they might have found the princess and sorceress too that he hadn't even paid attention. Though he was certain they'd passed a mage as he was dragged to the cell.

Only once Ciri's big green eyes light up as he walks through the door of the small abandoned shack they were camped out in, does he note the way Jaskier's big bright blue eyes, had seemed so tired and dull.

It's not until the little lion cub of Cintra leads him over to the bowl of stew she'd saved for him, he recalls the way the poet had bristled at him when he'd kicked over the tray off food one of the soldiers had brought to their prison cell. Claiming they always rewarded those deserving and the bard had earned it. The way he'd stuffed the food scattered on the floor in his mouth like a man who'd not seen food in days.

Not once did their captors openly claim the bard had been the one who led them to him. Just little things here and there like the food reward, or a mention of how chatty he was, that might lead one to assume. Jaskier was chatty, but one could chat for hours without breaching the desired topic. Not once did they say it was him.

He'll leave out the bard when he tells Ciri of his short capture then escape when she demands to know where he's been, why he disappeared for two days without word. But he'll remember the way Jaskier swore black and blue that he'd never give him up, insisted that he'd never toss a friend under the proverbial carriage.

' _You know me Geralt, I'd never betray you like this_.'

He'll leave out a lot when he tells them what had happened, little Cirilla has already witness and lived through more horrors than any her age should, so he spares her more when he can. He'll leave most out but Yen will hear it anyway, she'll read it in his eyes, she'll see it all. She'll know what he's done. After when he tucks Ciri in for the night, he'll belatedly pick up on the obvious limp that had hindered the bard's steps making his escape into the undergrowth slow, loud and clumsy.

By the time the blinding burn of betrayal begins to recede, the fear and desperation in Jaskier's call for him to not leave, as he struggled to keep up will finally register in his ears. The sheen of tears in his eyes, the shortness of breath, the way one arm wrapped tightly around his chest as though he was trying to hold his trembling body together. All of it.

A sharp clawing guilt screaming a reminder that the bard had always been loyal in the twenty odd years he'd followed at his side like a faithful hound.

His fist would crash into the rough bark of a tree before he comes to realise it had been a year since he and Jaskier had parted ways on that mountain. A whole year, and he had no way of knowing how long after parting ways the bard had ended up in Nilfgaard's clutches.

His knuckles split, bruised and bleeding as he thinks on how trying to get information from the talkative bard that he didn't want to share was like squeezing blood from a stone.

Yen's hand comes to rest on his shoulder as reason supplies that even the strongest men break eventually. Even if Jaskier had let slip the information that lead Nilfgaard to him, that information would not have been given freely.

Everyone cracks eventually.

It takes a back and forth shouting match, a hard slap to the face and Yennefer's remorseful yet rational voice of reason, to stop him saddling Roach and storming mindlessly into an enemy camp twenty plus men strong. 'If Jaskier made it out he'd have gone straight for help, see himself seen to and patched up. And if he didn't... well, there's no point risking everything to retrieve a corpse.'

The bard's desperate plea will echo in his head on repeat as Yen eventually retires for the night.

Once all his other emotions have fled and only a cold, hollow, growing pit of guilt remains, he sits numbly staring into the dark. All he can do is pray to any god that'll listen that he hadn't just abandoned his bard, his best friend, to his death.


End file.
